Drunk and Giddy

Today was a gorgeous day in Seattle. The sun was shining, it was warm--not hot. And everywhere I went, people were in a good mood. I think that is what happens when you deprive people of something they feel entitled to for so long that their spirit of entitlement is broken (in this case: sunshine) and they become drunk and giddy when they finally get it.

Every time I went outside, I resisted going back in. I would cross over to the sunny side of the street for just a few more moments of rays on my skin. It was intoxicating.

The warmth, the bright light, the scent on the air... drunk and giddy.

This week is going to be rainy... stay tuned for The Hangover.

Shame on you Miss Manners!

Okay, so it's not totally Miss Manners fault, but...  Today, as I was looking for a 5 minute distraction at work, I clicked on her most recent column. 

 There, she suggests that a man take his long-time girlfriend to a restaurant to confess that he's been lying to her for the last four years.   

This sent me reeling.  

Not just because it is incredibly manipulative to take someone to a public place to give them bad news all with the hopes of lessening the force of their wrath, but because my father broke up with me twice at restaurants and has always chosen very public eateries to pick fights and deliver such devastating news that I refuse to eat out alone with him. 

So, to clarify: when I say he "broke up with me," I mean exactly that.  He has asked me to leave him alone, and not be a part of his life twice now.  Once, he did so at a country-steak and pie house where a very concerned grandma-waitress asked me if I needed her help (I was sobbing).  The second time was at at Outback Steakhouse where we were being waited on by an acquaintance from school.  Half way through our meal, the staff just stopped coming to our table, but kept sending worried glances my way from over the booth partition.  You see, Daddy has a way of losing himself in whatever woman he happens to be in love with at the moment.  He sabotages everything else; from his family to his job and friendships, with the hope of creating a perfect life with this "One." Then, as things fall apart, he really starts to grasp for straws.  This usually looks like a new mustang convertible, an earring, a tattoo, or a new wardrobe like his Technicolor Hammer pants in the 90s (my dad is an attorney for a very conservative community council).  And whenever anyone speaks out against his radical transformations, he breaks up with them.  Even if they are a 15-year-old girl who took her dad to dinner to celebrate his birthday.

As you can imagine, when I read Miss Manners advice, I couldn't help but think back to all of times he dragged me out to a restaurant that I have yet to return to from sheer humiliation.  All of the times he hoped to force me into the corner of quiet acceptance because he knows I am loathe to make a scene.  Miss Manners!?!  WTF!?!  I LOVE you, Miss Manners, but...wow.  A public place is not a tool for the Dysfunctional Relationship arsenal.  Keep the out-of-bounds secret fear or regret as your go-to weapon of mass destruction.  Or use the tried and true things-they-can't-help-but-still-count-against-them card to deflect attention from your own faults.  But an intentionally public display love dyslexia is below the belt.

It is late. About 1 a.m.

I should go to bed.  I have to work tomorrow.  I have to get up two hours before I go to work and shower.  I have to do my hair and make-up.  Iron my clothes and walk my dog.  I really should go to bed... I just can't.

I am watching an infomercial.  No, I'm not.  The TV is playing an infomercial, but I am not actively watching it.  I am suffering from ennui-- an affliction only fatal to Gashlycrumb Tinies.  Thank God.

Hmm.  I should go to bed.

I am surfing the internet and coveting the steam mop for sale on my TV. 

I should go to bed, but now there is a woman named Sholene trying to sell me something called Turbo Jams.  Dunno. 

Alright.  I'm going.  

Right now.  To Bed.

 Any moment...

Meet My Puppy!

I cannot begin to tell you how much I love him!  I adopted him last October and even though it's been less than one year, I can't imagine my life without him.

"Friends" and lovers

I just joined Facebook this month.  I did it because I wanted to contact all of my old friends-- people I really missed, but didn't necessarily know how to contact.  Sure enough, I am the last person on the planet to join Facebook; everyone was there.  People began to overwhelm me with invites to be "Friends."  And while I find it still a bit confusing and a wholly unimportant universe at times, I am glad I joined.  It has been really great to catch-up with all of those people I missed.  What has been hard is how many of those people are doing things that I want to be doing right now.  At least four of my "Friends" are in Paris, and several of them are working in film.  I know that I am in Seattle for a reason, but lately, I've felt very empty and sad about my existence here.  There is a lot for me to learn, master and I know that I am here to do that, but why is the process so slow-- and so difficult?  It's a bit humiliating, and I wonder if the big challenge in front of me is mastering my weaknesses or staying hopeful despite the process.  I would like to shut the blinds, cover my head, and dream of a better place.  I would like to let the next few years drift over me as I sleep.  And then I wake: long fingernails and hairy legs.  A moustache.  An unruly bikini line.  And I am exactly where I want to be (or will be as soon as I get my claws on a razor).  Doing exactly what I want to be doing.  Surrounded by people I love...and like.  I would settle for the knowledge of how--at this time in my life-- to get what I want, how to work for and earn it.  But that knowledge doesn't seem to be out there.  I just can't seem to find it.  I don't seem to be good for anything but surviving the minutiae.  

I also joined EHarmony this month.  Three days later, I cancelled my subscription.  I was matched with some total goons, and some really great guys (one of whom lives three doors down-- I pulled my photo before he got to see it... I hope).  I put out a photo, wrote a profile and began "shopping" my matches.  Reading about these men was interesting.  Intriguing.  I thought, "hey, some of these guys are awesome."  And then, I started to look at pictures.  I realized that, regardless of the match's potential, I am not ready to start dating.  I am not ready to start dating because I am carrying a LOT of shame about my current weight.  It wasn't that big of a deal when I was dating someone I saw no potential in--  the man who never gave me cues one way or the other about my appearance, but if I were to start dating now, it would only be with men in who I see potential for a future and I cannot bear the thought of beginning that journey the way I see myself now.  Also working against me right now is my desire to leave Seattle as soon as possible.  I don't want to get into a relationship with someone only to fall in love and end up in this city where he has created a life.  *shudder*

I would like to have sex with someone else right now, but I am not in any hurry.  I am quite capable of taking care of business myself.  The idea of meeting someone online for anonymous sex is terrifying to me and I cannot begin to entertain the thought.  

So, this month, I am making friends and avoiding lovers.

Just clearing my throat (finding my voice is going to take some time)

I haven't written anything online (posts, etc.) in quite some time.  Mainly because life has required considerably more time and attention than it previously had.  During the time I was living in Paris I found myself with more leisure time than leisure activities. So, I became immersed in the world of blogging, social networking, gossip sites, conspiracy theory sites, porn.  But now that I have a full-time job, a dog, and social obligations, I am less and less likely to loose three hours looking at kittens on You Tube.  No, my day is filled with work, and my evenings spent recuperating from said work, exercising (not really), and playing with my pup.  A day full of activity that I once longed for when I had none.  Sadly-- but not unexpectedly-- I wish for the opposite now.  I would like go weeks without having to be somewhere or a deadline to meet.  

I guess I decided to post something today because I'd like to start doing it more often.  Most of my "friends" from the good ol' days are no longer around, and I see this site as a place that friends-- real, actual humans I have met and keep in touch with-- can stop by and see how/what I'm doing.  If you are one of said friends, please leave me a comment.  I'd love to know how you are.

Welcome

I’m in Seattle. I live here now.
I’m not really okay with that, but sometimes, in life, we’re forced to ride that log of shit downhill…as it’s always rolls downhill. I guess I should back-up a bit: how’s August 2007? I guess that’s about the time I got “onboard.”
I had received my acceptance letter to film school in Paris and for about 2 months, all of my dreams (even the ones I never allowed myself to think of, not for a minute) were becoming reality. I was going to Paris to live the rest of my life! I got accepted to a great Master’s Program (something I doubted would happen [hey, I went to a state party school), and I was going to make films. Great films that I could be so proud of.
Funny thing about postgraduate work in foreign countries, banks and lending organizations: they consider the student too much of a flight risk to invest in. I tried to convince my Dad to co-sign a private loan for me, but he wouldn’t (I was clear that I never wanted anything from him, just a signature), he’s now getting ready to retire a millionaire. Sorry, these grapes are still a little sour…
As everything started to fall away from me, the people around me kept telling me, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” “Don’t give up, you can work for a year and save up.” “Look, a window just opened…Let’s see what the view is like”
The problem is that $60,000 isn’t a sum I can save in one year—I can’t earn that much in a year? Also, as strong as my will was, being told to find a way (and no one had any suggestions for me) only made me feel like a failure.
Anyway, that window was Seattle. By October, I’d bought a suit, went on a handful of interviews, and got a job at a multinational company in their HR department. The hard part about my job is that while it isn’t something I want to do for the rest of my life (in fact, they say the burnout rate for my position is 2 years), the company is great. They are very progressive, supportive, and they pay me really well. I can see myself in Seattle, with a mortgage, a dog, and carpal tunnel syndrome in 5 years. This thought brings me to tears. It’s pathetic—believe me, I know. In this economy, while people are losing their homes and livelihoods, I am complaining about how comfortable my job is. For that, I can only ask forgiveness as nothing can really excuse it.
I am not happy here. I’ve never, in all of my life been so broke. I can pay my bills, but am wearing underwear with holes in them because I am paying back student loans, and about $900 each month for rent. I’ve always been able to indulge a bit, but right now, I can’t afford groceries this month.
Also, I haven’t really found anyone I like or a community I want to become a part of here. I dislike the people in my neighborhood: its newly gentrified, 30 million-dollar-penthouse-owners, or a legion of the homeless and destitute men and women of Seattle. I don’t really fit in with either.
Seattle is that great jacket that looks so good on the hanger, but is ultimately too short in the sleeves and not broad enough in the shoulders.
The hardest trial so far has been breaking up with my long-term boyfriend. It is, in hindsight, a really good thing. It’s just a difficult thing—more so than I was prepared for. Before we started dating, I was really happy being single. I LOVED being single. Now, there is an empty space on the left side of my bed. I miss spending Sunday mornings together and fighting because he was always late. It still physically hurts sometimes, but has subsided to a dull thud from a sharp, breathtaking pain.
Lately, I find myself restless. I have an itch to go. I need to see what’s there…in the world, in life. I need to experience all that’s missing from life right now: fulfillment, adventure, learning, challenge. It’s cruel that for the first time in my life, I know what I want (and what I think I need), and I am handicapped without the means to obtain it.
Please don’t misunderstand me, I don’t feel sorry for myself. I have given me two years in Seattle. At the end of that time, I could choose to stay or do something else. No pressure. What’s two years of saving some money and paying down some debt? I won’t be anywhere nearer to paying for that Parisian degree, but I will have two years of life to show for it. My daily mantra is, “Stay Present.” Honestly, I’ve never been good at that, but now is the time—more than ever before that I need to be. Making the best of Seattle, living in the next few years instead of waiting through them is my goal. If I can do that, I will consider my time here a success in more than a few ways.

“Life is what happens when you’re waiting for something to happen.” 10pts for whoever can name the Christian Bale film in which that phrase is painted on a wall.

Well, that’s the beginning of my new story. I am now a 27 year-old American living in an American city. So, er…um, welcome to my new blog.